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The map of the north-eastern coast of Haszad – what would otherwise be a wasteland to others – comes into view, marked with arrows, circles and crosses. A valley and a mountain range, as well as a cliff-side are marked clearly enough to give you the nerves. Behind you, the laughter had stopped; absolute silence reigned… everyone seemed to be in working mode now.

‘Jackal Squadron, in less than an hour, we’re going to be heading straight for The Unions waters.’ He begins in a low, gravely voice. ‘This is under direct request from The Count of Tohno – you know how this is going to go; pick up the assets and get out. We’ll be using the land route by the coast as our entry point using low altitude and the night when we cross the border; intel on Abyssal activity on the straits, as always, is fuzzy, and because we’re trying to keep this as silent as we can… we’re not going to ask them anyway.’

Someone briefly snorts.

‘Our two consultants are The Vice-Admiral and The First Division Commander of The Yokosuka Base.’ He indicates the both of you, and even in the dark you can see the steel in his eyes. ‘Codenames: Ahab and Ishmael, respectively. You’ve been given you briefing so you know your job – this is strictly off the books so if you’re in, you’re not getting out – the same goes for our two assets. All of you know what our job is – the recovery and retrieval of two Admiralty assets; designation Yamato and Musashi, currently on hold at a Black Site under the jurisdiction of Haszad Intelligence.’

‘If it’s just a retrieval, Squadron Commander, why do we need two consultants on-site?’ A female voice asks.

‘The Count of Tohno was adamant on the details of this operation. We have a small window to retrieve and bring back The KanMusu from the black site north of Gavlan.’ He points to the circle at the tip of the land mass. ‘The state of the assets is written as critical – by the time we reach the site, we have an estimated hour at most to find both of them and restore them to a safe threshold – the window is short, so we’re going to have to do it on mission hours. Ahab and Ishmael are our experts. They’ll be handling recovery; our job is to get them in and out.’

The lights come on.

‘Loudmouth.’

‘Sir!’ A woman, younger than the rest, stands up. It’s the owner of the one inquisitive voice from before.

‘You’re Ishmael’s sitter.’ He doesn’t miss a beat declaring the assignment, nor does the room spare one as all of them keep their silence. He gives the room one last sweeping glance. ‘Anything else?’

>‘Isn’t using the coastline as a course… risky?’
>‘Why is she my sitter, Commander, sir? The Vice-Admiral doesn’t have one.’
>‘Why is my ammo stock less than the others on this mission?’
>PREP
>Write-In

>>827510
>‘Why is she my sitter, Commander, sir? The Vice-Admiral doesn’t have one.’

>>827510
>PREP
they know better than us at this things

>>827501
Prep

>>827554
>>827559
PREP takes you to the airfield to launch. Are you sure you wish to proceed?

YES NO

>>827510
let me change my vote
>do we know anything on the site?

>no
>‘Isn’t using the coastline as a course… risky?’

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‘Do we know anything else about the site?’ You inquire.

There hadn’t been anything particularly stand-out about the explanation. As much as you didn’t want to toe the line when it came to authority, with your life – and the KanMusus – you can’t help but get into the details a little more.

‘Only that it’s as off-the-map as off-the-map gets, Commander.’ The Squadron Commander approaches your seat, leaning down and almost towering over you. ‘Where we’re headed is the coastal province of Gavlan – the closest human settlement is a few hundred miles out; the zone used to be an oil-mining station a few decades back run by the few Vanzerian and Romerian firms that managed to get their way; with the war coming in, it’s all but abandoned by most of the masses.’ He gestures for one of his men to turn on the projector again, showing a faint outline of the area. He steps away from you, gesturing at the map. ‘Most of these areas here are protected areas endorsed by The Union’s wildlife preservation organizations. They keep people out by telling them that the area’s only allowed for naturalists and scientists. From what we know, the site itself is known to the Haszadian public as a wildlife research laboratory charged with the restoration and recovery of indigenous endangered species.’

‘No one bothered to care about that part?’ The Vice-Admiral inquires, turning to you and nodding. Apparently the line of questioning had raised his curiosity too. ‘You’d think that some whistleblower nuts would’ve chanced onto it and saw that something wasn’t right.’

‘It’s not my job to know that detail.’ The Squadron Commander answers neutrally, gesturing for the man by the projector to turn it off again. ‘What I know is that the civilians are kept out from a range of fifty miles out by a bunch of flyers claiming that some tiger or rhinoceros is in breeding season; most roads end on a curve at around eight – their Senate runs interference in a big way, telling people that they’re disturbing nature and all that jazz. It’s hiding the thing in plain sight.’ He lets out a mirthless chuckle. ‘The most that people would think about it is that their Senate’s just way too zealous when it comes to species preservation. Outside looking in, it looks like any research station with a small dock.’

‘So we’re – !’

‘Clear as far as Ops go, but we’re not going to drop close enough for it to be noticeable by them or a third party.’ He gives you a look. ‘You can count on us to be able to do that without screwing up, at least.’

>‘Why are we charting a course by the coastline?’
>‘Why do I need a spotter?’
>‘Why is my ammo stock so… tiny?’
>PREP
>Write-In

>>827595
>PREP

>>827595
>‘Why is my ammo stock so… tiny?’

>>827595
changing vote to
>‘Why is my ammo stock so… tiny?’

>>827595
>PREP
We know we're the rookie. No need to flaunt it even more.

>>827595
>PREP

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‘Are there anymore questions?’

You actually hear the defeated sigh that escapes his nostrils as you raise your hand… all without turning to face you; he’d apparently resigned himself to have you throw more inquiries in his direction.

‘Yes?’

‘I was given my loadout a few hours ago, but I couldn’t help but notice something.’ You try to remember the details; as far as you could tell, it seemed like they had passed on your quite a bit. ‘I have a flashlight and a – a pistol but only two magazines.’ You bite your lip, looking up hopefully. ‘I don’t even have a combat knife, just a… utility one.’

‘That sounds about right.’

‘The Vice-Admiral has an automatic weapon.’ You don’t mean to sound like a spoiled child, but somehow, with that choice of words, you do. You instantly regret it when the man rounds on you, looking down upon your person with a glare that barely restrained projecting the bulk of his disdain for you.

‘Commander, if I can call you that?’ ‘Prior to your application into The Admiralty you had no military experience, nor, according to my understanding of the evaluation of your status any experience in any sort of high-stress, extreme-risk operations on a physical that we’re currently undertaking.’ Your Vice-Admiral, pissant that he is,’ ‘is a fully-trained and experienced Ranger with extensive knowledge regarding firearms, high-tension situations and holds one of the best damn records among the Air Force Ranger Academy Cadets, for whatever measure that’s worth.’

‘Eat my shorts, Squadron Commander.’ The Vice-Admiral gives his chin a scratch with his middle finger, baiting the towering soldier.

‘Keep that up and my bullet’s finding your ass.’ The Squadron Commander growls, much to the room’s amusement. ‘In comparison, in the last 24 hours, you’ve tallied one of the lowest scores in history in the range, even for a consultant, you’re right there in the bottom five on the worst shots and the only thing you have to show of your physical prowess was…’ He smirks, wiggling his eyebrows in amusement, ‘an admittedly impressive takedown of one of our most senior instructors, even if you were a cheating sonuvabitch doing it.’

You look indignant. When you had been told to do anything to win, you’d merely deployed all options at your disposal.

‘You’re saying you can’t trust me with a weapon?’

‘An untrained and unprepared soldier on the field is worse than an army on the other side of the hill.’

‘Loudmouth is your sitter.’ He gestures to the woman at the back, who nods. ‘She’ll take care of anything that comes your way.’

>‘Who do I need a sitter?’
>‘Why the course by the coast? Wouldn’t we get noticed?’
>PREP
>Write-In

>>827634
>>PREP

>>827634
>PREP

>>827634
>>PREP

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It takes about 15 minutes for you to suit up proper… and you have to admit that the vest wasn’t a bad look on you. For one, it actually managed to wholly cover your belly and tighten you up – you managed to look a lot thinner wearing it than you would otherwise have been. You feel your gear; your field kit is hooked behind you by your belt and your sidearm is safely in its holster. Around you, everyone else was packed a lot heavier than you were… but not enough that you’d call it a mobilization. One automatic rifle and a sidearm – save for Loudmouth, who was patting what looked like an odd cross between a hunting rifle and a sniper rifle. You decide not to question her about it, for now, at least.

You didn’t want to get on the bad side of someone who was supposed to be covering your ass for this mission. You could tell that the lot of them would have rather been doing this within their own zones instead of having to look out for you. You emphasize you because The Vice-Admiral, now back in his element and clad in the same black as the other members of Jackal Squadron looked like he was already ahead of the curve, cocking his rifle expertly.

‘Focus!’ Loudmouth gives you a light shove. The others let out low chuckles as they get up and walk out of the preparation trailer; her ponytail whips you rudely as she gestures for you to follow her.

‘Sorry.’ You don’t think she hears you though; you get up and follow her, The Squadron Commander gesturing at the others to follow suit.

The last lights of the evening were saying their goodbyes the moment you stepped onto the tarmac to see – to your confusion – two Seahawk helicopters, all fueled up and prepped. You recognize that none of the attendants or mechanics were in military wear – each of them were clad in the bright colors of the airfield’s staff – and it hits you that this is what it meant to actually be taking part in a mission that was off the grid.

Despite your anxiety, you can’t help but ask the first question that comes to mind.

‘Why are there two Seahawks?’ You ask, being ushered into one of the choppers.

‘Decoy.’ Loudmouth yells over the din. ‘We’ll be flying by the coastline; visual confirmation will have them think that it’s just a routine run.’

You nod dumbly as she straps you into your seat; the others pile into the surprisingly spacious helicopter. 5 minutes later, the it’s up in the air… and you try to remember the prayers you were taught.

No one speaks for the next three hours as you approach the border. Above you, you see the other Seahawk taking what looked to be a more noticeable position, playing its part nicely. You look around; no one looks to break the silence, either.

>Talk to Loudmouth
>Ask around about the crew
>Talk to The Vice-Admiral
>Keep quiet the whole journey
>Write-In

>>827679
>Talk to Loudmouth

>>827679
>>Talk to Loudmouth

>>827679
>Talk to Loudmouth

>>827679
>Talk to The Vice-Admiral

>>827679
Ask loudmouth what to do if i get lost

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‘Don’t tap your feet.’ Loudmouth kicks your heel with hers, catching your attention. She gestures to your tapping feet, giving your friendly knee a friendly tap with the nozzle of her rifle. ‘It doesn’t decrease anxiety. If you’re feeling stressed,’ she shows you her palms, before setting them down on her lap and moving them up and down, gesturing for you to follow,‘do this. It works better.’

You quit tapping your feet and follow her advice – she was right, it did feel a lot better on the hold.

‘Thanks.’ You say sincerely; you hear a few chuckles over the turning of the rotors above, which, admittedly, was starting to add to your anxiety. Seeing her turn back forward to the other two men across, you decide to at least strike up conversation and try to get in her good graces as much as you can manage. ‘So you’re going to be covering me, huh?’

‘You don’t think I can?’ She gives you a disinterested look. You’d stepped on a landmine, apparently.

You try to defuse the situation the best you can. Across from you her Squadmates were chuckling audibly again at your expense, making you feel a little hot under the collar.

‘No, I’m just… I haven’t ever been in a situation where someone’s had to look out for me,’ you scratch the side of your cheek, smiling nervously under her scrutinizing gaze; she apparently didn’t think much of you either, even with the other ‘at least not in this sort of context, anyway.’ You stumble to find the words. ‘Thank you.’

‘You’re welcome.’ She turns to you, that unamused look still on her features. ‘As long as you don’t try to play the hero, you can stay welcome.’

‘Um,’ you stumble for words again, wondering if that was a warning, threat, or promise, ‘thanks again, I guess.’

You lean back against the seat, letting out a breath. That seemed to have been a wasted effort – she didn’t seem to want to chat with you as much as her callsign – codename, designation, whatever – would have implied. Maybe they should have called her Miss Speaks-A-Bit or Quiet or something. Across from you, one of the men even gives you a pitiful smile, shaking his head.

‘You’ve never fired a military grade weapon until the last 24 hours, correct?’

You blink. You may have been premature with that assumption. Following up with a nod, Loudmouth gestures towards your weapon, making you take it out.

‘This is loud.’ She emphasizes, turning the gun in your direction and pointing at certain components. ‘Gun fire is a last resort in any situation on any op – that’ll be more use to you here than a bullet.’ She gestures to your prosthetic. ‘Unless you really need to risk the spotlight, I’d keep that sidearm holstered from start to end. Discharge of weaponry means noise. Noise means attention. Remember that.’

You nod.

>Talk to someone else (Specify)
>Keep silent
>Write-In

>>827726
>Talk to someone else (Specify)
VA

>>827726
>Talk to VA

>>827726
>Talk to someone else (Ahab)

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‘Vice-Admiral.’ You gesture to your superior, who leans forward, clutching his armament tightly.

‘Commander?’ He acknowledges you, lifting his chin. ‘Something up?’

‘What are we supposed to do when we get on-site, exactly?’ You yell a lit loud, irritating some of the other passengers. ‘I mean, we’re supposed to find them, but how are we supposed to make them, you know, stable?’ Something else hits you as you press on with another inquiry. ‘Wouldn’t Akashi have been better for them to bring on this mission?’

The Vice-Admiral shakes his head.

‘Akashi can’t know about this. No one on The Court of Admirals was informed of this mission. The Admiral himself called a favor with The Count of Tohno to get this operation up and running – we’re as far into an off-the-book mission as we can get.’ He points at you with his thumb, raising his voice. ‘When we get there, there’s not going to be enough time for them to throw back an evac and bring them back across the border, even if we’re successful – the intel we have says that if they’re not synced with a Commander unit by tomorrow morning, they’re as good as dead.’

You mutter a small curse under your breath.

‘You remember the drill – reach out and synchronize what you can; the way they are, they’re going to be reaching out for you as well; Super Dreadnaughts have a large signature, so you’re going to have be careful with just what you let in. We’re not dealing with skill or tactics here; a KanMusu Core large enough can overwhelm you if you’re not prepared.’

‘Never had that problem with Kaga and the others…’ You mutter, but by the grimace that now dons his features, you can tell that he hears it.

‘Nature and desperation change things – being locked up for a month and treated like an animal’s not going to be kind on their psyche; if you’re going to deal with them, let them latch on and feed but do not let them in deeper than you have to; when you get near, just concentrate but keep vigilant.’ He says it with emphasis. ‘Link one of them to your stream, heal them up enough to stabilize but not enough for them to dig and we’ll be right out again; Battleships and Carriers have different requirements when it comes to synchronization – Super Dreadnoughts are a whole different ball game. Commandeering or synchronizing with one’s enough to give someone an aneurysm.’

You count backwards to ten.

‘So, basically, I’m going to give myself to a soul vampire…’ You begin slowly, scarcely believing what you were uttering, ‘and mentally tell her that when I think she’s had her fill when she can tear my mind in half during the feeding process.’

He grins dopily.

‘I knew you’d catch on.’

>Talk to someone else (Specify)
>Keep silent
>Write-In

>>827771
>>Keep silent

>>827771
>>Keep silent

>>827771
>Keep silent

>>827771
>Keep silent

>>827771
>>Keep silent

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You keep silent the rest of your way. It’s not even twenty minutes later when a warning klaxon reaches your ears – The Squadron Commander gets to

‘Roughneck, Stormrider is raising altitude – dropping off right now on your mark.’ The pilot sounds from the front, turning to face Roughneck, the Squadron Commander. ‘Blaring active RADAR response and going low; on your mark.'

‘Do it.’ He commands in a low voice.

The klaxon immediately dies and the Seahawk seemingly goes into a dead drop onto a lower attitude – even in the darkness, from the corner of the window you see the other Seahawk – Stormrider – playing its duty as a decoy; from the radio has some angry foreign language blaring now. You also hear the voice of the pilot from the second chopper reply in a similar tone; Roughneck takes his place back across The Vice-Admiral. Above you, the lights instantly die – prompting you to feel for your night goggles. Loudmouth instantly grabs your hand, keeping you from taking that out.

They’ve only got an hour of power at best.’ You hear her voice, even if you can’t see her face. ‘You don’t need ‘em right now.’ There’s an amused tone to her voice, like a mother who had found humor in a bad act her son had done. ‘Just sit back for the time being. When we get to the insertion point, you can put them on.’

‘Lights off and links out!’ Roughneck barks – you don’t see him, nor do you get what he means until you feel Loudmouth tap your neck… where the com-bead was secured on your collar. It was an equipment test. ‘Check, check.’

‘Stomper, check.’

‘Blueblood, check.’

‘Loudmouth, check.’

‘Zamboni, check.’

‘Jackrabbit, check.’

‘Ahab, check.’

You let out a breath. Your turn, now.

‘Ishmael, check.’

‘What’s the ETA, Morpheus?’

‘Just above two hours, keeping things low.’

You don’t say anything else. Neither does anyone else on the chopper; you can’t make sense of what is happening two feet in front of you. Any single one of them could be holding a gun in your face right now and you wouldn’t know. Above you, the rotors of the chopper turn loudly; you look outside the window and see nothing, not even the moon, sea or coast; a small fear awakens within you as the minutes tick by in the darkness… until you notice a raise in attitude.

‘Approach vector has no hostiles, approaching drop-point. Light pollution is high; I’m going to have to drop you off a little bit off-point.’ The pilot sounds. ‘The facility’s on flat ground past this point – too much light. They’ll see you coming.’

‘All right. Bring us low. Squadron, plastic on arms!’ The blue lights come on, and Roughneck is in your face. ‘Can you swim?’

>‘I’ve swum before, yeah.’
>‘I don’t do good in water.’
>Write-In

>>827868
>>‘I’ve swum before, yeah.’

>>827868
>‘I’ve swum before, yeah.’

>>827868
>‘I’ve swum before, yeah.’

>>827868
>>‘I don’t do good in water.’

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‘I’ve swum before, yeah.’

‘Good.’ Roughneck answers, patting you on the back and ushering you to the open door. ‘Loudmouth.’

‘Plastic wraps keep your ammo from getting wet.’ She hands you a wrap, which you deposit your weapon in before placing it back in its holster. She gestures to your prosthetic. ‘Your arm?’

‘Waterproof, as far as I can tell.’

‘Good. Follow my lead.’

She leaps into the darkness, wholly disappearing. You lean outside, seeing practically nothing – beyond the edges of the hill that seemingly keeps you hidden, you see white lights, but they barely illuminate. Giving Roughneck one last look and throwing a prayer, you drop from the chopper, into the cold sea. The chill… doesn’t come, strangely enough.

You’re relieved of your eyepatch upon impact with the water, floating almost… comfortably, in fact. By all rights, you should be gasping for air right about now, but you don’t feel like it. Your Magic Eye sees things… you can see the floor of the sea; it’s not that far off… and your eyepatch is there, knocked loose from the force of your entry. You swim downwards to reach for it, when the sea suddenly… sinks and Abyss paradoxically rises, a psychotic grinning mouth rising from the sand – you would cry out in horror if you could, floating helplessly as a blue and orange floor seemingly lights up beneath you.

I see you.

It speaks in a voice that makes you want to scream.

They see you, too.

You feel something tug on you, bringing you to the surface.

‘I thought you said you knew how to swim?!’

Loudmouth’s voice drags you back to reality; to your right, you make out the silhouette of one of the other Squaddies, clutching at you. The water is cold and so is the air – you feel like you could freeze just being here. Thoughts of what had occurred underneath the surface leave you as old muscles kick in and your begin to wade – it’s not so deep; at most there was about ten meters between you and the sea floor.

‘Night vision.’ Loudmouth mentions. You immediately comply, donning the goggles and turning their dial; making out the outline of the shore. The others had safely made it from the chopper and were now floating or heading towards shore – which was now long gone. ‘Follow me; we’re heading to the beach.’

By the time you reach the beach, you’re quite happy to say that despite being dripping wet, you were shivering the least.

The seven of you make your way towards the cliff-road… when Roughneck gestures for the lot of you to duck behind the large rock formation. He peers around the edge.

‘There’s a small, fenced entrance with two pairs of guards. It probably directly leads into the facility. There’s also a pathway up the cliffs, but if they so much as step out they’re going to see us.’ He turns to you. ‘What’ll it be?’

>Cliffs
>Cove Entrance

>>827965
>Cove Entrance

>>827965
>Cove Entrance

>>827965
>Cove Entrance

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‘The faster we get in, the better.’ You voice – everyone turns to you; you can see the incredulity etched on the face of Roughneck, before turning a little sheepish. You’d taken a bit of an authoritative, challenging tone, before meekly suggesting your plan. ‘I vote for the cove entrance; if it leads into the facility, the faster we get in, the faster we can get to Yamato and Musashi.’

‘He’s got a point, Commander.’ The man you recognize as Blueblood sounds, gesturing upwards. ‘No way we’re going to be able to get up there without someone detection – if there’re any other patrols on the cliffs, they’ll find us out. We’re too big a group to move like this.’

‘All right, then.’ Roughneck moves forward, gesturing towards Blueblood and Stomper to approach him. ‘Blueblood, get into position – I want one shot and two kills. They have a rotation and I want you to take them out two by two; Stomper, move past the pathway and behind those rocks by the cove – once the patrol doubles back on its route, take the two by the entrance on my mark.’

Stomper nods quietly, climbing up the large rock and onto the mouth of the cliff pathway, disappearing from your view right after; you were in enough of a blind spot to not be able to tell what the both of them were doing. Roughneck raises the mic on his collar to his mouth, gesturing for Blueblood to follow Stomper right after. Loudmouth is right next to you, still as a mouse. No one speaks for a while, the only sound is the crackle of the comm on the Squadron Commander’s collar and the rolling waves. You don’t see what’s going on, but hope that the silence isn’t a prelude to the situation spiraling out of control.

‘Second Patrol’s right back – both pairs are armed; one of them has an old ‘Kov. He doesn’t even have to get us – the noise is loud enough that they’re going to send someone running right out.’ Roughneck almost curses. ‘Blueblood, if you can get two in one shot, I’ll buy you a damn gallon of beer when we get back.’ He peers around the rocks again, gesturing for Loudmouth to peer through the crevice where Stomper and Blueblood had stepped up to get to the mouth of the pathway. ‘Loudmouth, when Stomper gets to the first one, I want you to drop the second as soon as he makes a sound. If Stomper doesn’t get to the both of them fast enough, you have permission to fire.’

He turns to you.

‘Stay put.’

You’re in no position to argue.

‘Engage.’

Stomper’s the first to make his move.

>Successful Initial Takedown Successful/Supporting Long-Distance Takedown (Roll 2d8 each)

Rolled 4, 3, 3, 8, 6 = 24 (5d8)

>>828140
Initial Takedown

Rolled 2, 4 = 6 (2d8)

>>828140

Rolled 5, 6, 3, 7, 7 = 28 (5d8)

>>828140
Long-Distance Takedown

Rolled 3, 3 = 6 (2d8)

>>828140

Rolled 3, 1 = 4 (2d8)

>>828140

Rolled 6, 6 = 12 (2d8)

>>828140

>>828140

Rolled 6, 4 = 10 (2d8)

>>828140
>>828260

Rolled 3, 1 = 4 (2d8)

>>828140

>>828147
>>828151
>>828160
>>828170
>>828270
Initial Takedown Success FAILURE
1: 5 - 2 [X]
2: 3 - 3 [T]
3: 3 - 3 [T]
4: 8 - 6 [X]
5: 6 - 4 [X]

Supporting Long-Distance Takedown CATASTROPHIC FAILURE
1: 5 - 4 [X]
2: 6 - 3 [X]
3: 3 - 1 [X]
4: 7 - 6 [X]
5: 7 - 4 [X]

Write-Up in 39 minutes.

>>829662
whelp....that sucks balls

Rolled 5, 6, 6, 1, 7, 1, 2, 5 = 33 (8d8)

>>829662
clearing the bad luck

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Something doesn’t sit right with you. A bad feeling churns in you stomach as you peer past the crack – you don’t see much; the crack was narrow enough that it uncomfortably impaired your night vision. Above you, was Loudmouth, leaning against the rock to get a clear supporting shot. Whatever she was seeing, she could see better than you; the Squadron Commander raises his hand – probably out of habit, considering his men weren’t anywhere near him – and brings the comm bead to his mouth. He utters some kind of number combination and adds Blueblood’s name at the end.

‘There’s another patrol coming down that cliff.’

Loudmouth immediately slides down the rock formation as you try to register just what that meant. Something must have torn, because you hear a light rip… but that wasn’t the issue now. A clicking sound is heard as she shoves her way right past you and Roughneck, The Squadron Commander, turns right back to her before unholstering his own weapon… and you finally understand what it meant for you.

The other two were compromised.

‘High ground!’

The Vice-Admiral undoes the safety on his weapon, cursing up a storm. You peer around to see Jackrabbit and Zamboni getting to their feet, uttering curses as loudly as you.

‘Blueblood, 2 o’clock high!’ The Squadron Commander hisses into his comm bead, audibly enough for you to hear. ‘You’re exposed! You’re expose – !’

It’s too late.

In the distance, you hear two rifle shots – barely audible over the waves, but still audible – there isn’t any other sound that comes after, there doesn’t need to be. The Commander of Jackal Squadron takes on an expression of fear, frustration and anger all at once as in an unexpected move, he gestures for you to approach him… before shoving you by the rough texture of the cliff-face, hissing for you to keep quiet. Over the din, you hear him try to make contact with Stomper as Loudmouth crouches down next to you; you don’t look down to see what her face looked like right now, but you can tell that whatever had happened, this wasn’t on their agenda.

‘We’re winging it! Loudmouth, permission for discharge is a-go!’ He turns to The Vice-Admiral. ‘Ahab, we’re storming!’

‘Son of a bitch!’

The both of them charge the beach; you hear loud gunfire, but don’t dare to watch. Your eyes are focused on Loudmouth, who mutters under her breath as she lets out round after round. It must have taken less than 30 seconds, but the sound of Loudmouth’s rifle and her re-cocking and the waves in the distance seemed to slow time down. She stands right up after what seemed to be an eternity, gesturing for the three of you to stay… and then you hear a click above you, and see the business end of a rifle in the hands of a faceless goon.

'Move and I shoot, cowboy.'

The mission was over.

TBC

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‘Hands up.’ The man on the rock laughs loudly, patting his head in amusement. He raises his rifle again, gesturing for you to move out of the cover; Jackrabbit and Zamboni walk past you, keeping silent. You hear another clicking sound and he gestures for you to move on ahead; even with his goggles up, you can see he’s giving you the stink-eye. ‘Either I put a bullet in your or your get a nice cozy cell; your choice, cowboy.’ You don’t argue, putting your hands up and walking behind Zamboni. ‘That’s a good boy.’

The night vision is blinded a little by several beams you recognize as high power flash lights. On the sand of the beach, you see a body – Blueblood’s or Stomper’s, you can’t quite tell. You wince in discomfort as you march towards the group of half-a-dozen rifle-packing guards – you notice that by equipment alone, they were a lot better equipped than you… and were completely surrounding what was left of Jackal Squadron, who had their hands behind their head and on their knees. Roughneck was beside himself, muttering curses as he and The Vice-Admiral, who had a solemn look on his face, looked around at the shattered pieces of their mission.

It really was over, wasn’t it?

You join the others in the kill circle… the man who had caught you moments before rips your night vision goggles off you and pushes you into the sand. You brace yourself for the torture, the interrogation –

‘We know you’re from The Admiralty, my friends.’ One of the men steps forward – he’s not distinguishable from the others. ‘We know what you’re here for… the two monsters we hold in our little basement.’ He sees your twitch. ‘I admire your ingenuity – using the sea as your approach vector; brilliant. You knew that we wouldn’t be looking out for anything but Abyssal activity out there, but…’ he chuckles, looking at the body of the downed soldier, ‘it’s amazing how the sound of a twig… and an overlooked patrol can change the course of things, right?’

He kicks the Squadron Commander across the face with his boot. The sickening crunch is heard by everyone who’s present.

‘We are dogs of war, cowboy.’ The man continues neutrally, taking out a knife and playing with it casually. ‘And you choose to disrespect me by being caught; I would have had more respect for you if you’d at least made it to the doors of my office, but here? On the beach in the middle of cold, cold, Gavlan? You do not deserve the hospitality of Haszad. You disrespect me, cowboy. You are bad guest.'

Roughneck laughs cruelly.

‘I got careless.’ The Squadron Commander kneels upright – you don’t see his eyes, but you know he’s glaring into masked man’s. ‘You know how things get at my age. I think I can apply for a dementia severance package.’

TBC

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The flashlight from one of the men blinds you momentarily. The masked man, who now you know for sure is their leader, marches forward, almost casually… before kneeling forwards and patting Roughneck on the shoulder, giving him a friendly pat on the shoulder.

‘You have humor, cowboy.’ The man concedes. ‘I must admit that I didn’t think that this would be my catch of the day when I decided to go around for a walk and a smoke; people are just controlled nowadays… I much prefer the old times. Knives, torture, it was glorious; now people think we are but thieves in the night – they do not understand the cost. They do not understand how it once was… they look at the ocean and think that the nightmares come from the deep without bothering to look in the mirror and realizing that they are just as capable of the horrors they so fear! It is frustrating that mankind would forget that; just how much heavier the sins on our shoulders are compared to what the Abyssals can comprehend of our humanity.’ He gestures to two of his men, who drag the struggling, but ultimately quiet Loudmouth before the group. ‘They put me here because they think I am dangerous, that I do not have principle – a guard dog who doesn’t care for the rules when they themselves put them there to deny our true nature as instruments of self-destruction!’

‘Are you gonna put a bullet in our heads or are you going to talk us to death?’ The Vice-Admiral sounds in a bored tone. Everyone turns to him.

‘Cute.’

The soldiers tear away at Loudmouth’s straps and her top, leaving her bare in the cold night – she doesn’t scream, her hair pulled back by the large masked men before being shoved onto her knees forcefully. The The Squadron Commander is livid, but doesn’t say a word… the disgusting sound of a zipper coming down reaches your ears. You look away as they manhandle her face, forcing her to make

‘You are not worth checking in.’ He continues casually ‘For the disrespect you have given me… I will not even put you on my incident list.’ He says it with a snarl, gesturing to the scene unfolding behind you. ‘But my men, you see… it’s been so long since they went into town. You wouldn’t mind playing the audience, right?’

He takes out a gun. Behind you, you hear clicks – the safeties were going off behind you. Loudmouth was sounding now – a gargling, struggling noise that has you closing your eyes shut. You didn’t want to see it, you couldn’t –

‘They’re going to enjoy every inch of her!’

What?

‘Nee-san?’

Time stops around you.

A woman in white walks towards you, her expression blank… and holding out a hand.

Holding onto her, somehow, is… you. The coward, the child… the boy whose shell you had shed some time ago.

Do you want to fight?

>No
>Yes

>>830187
>Yes
If there was ever a time for the renegade option, this would probably be it.

>>830187
>Yes

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>>830187
>>No
NEVER TRUST A FUCKING ABYSSAL

>>830187
>>Yes
no other choice boys. time to get dangerous

>>830187
>>Yes
This is a bad idea, but its now or never

>>830187
> Yes
Rip and Tear!

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>>830187
>Yes

RIP AND TEAR THE FLESH FROM THEIR BONES, MAKE THEM SUFFER, LET THEM KNOW OUR WRATH, MAKE THEM KNOW, THAT WE ARE A COMMANDER

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>>830187
>>Yes
It's not about anger, and it's not about passion. It's just about getting rid of a threat.

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>>830332
>Tfw you post the wrong damn image
Here's what I meant to post. I need to get around to actually organizing my rare Ricks.

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You take her hand… and she vanishes. Time moves again – you’d risen up and taken a few steps. The masked man has his gun trained to your head; behind you, you hear voices of the armed men behind you in another language – around you are the now-passive Jackal Squadron, who are mumbling prayer and curses under their breath. Your Other Eye is still shut, but you have a dazed look in you in any case, stumbling forwards tiredly. You don’t know just what point to take now, only that you suddenly feel…

‘Sit down, cowboy.’ He takes out his gun, speaking in an amused tone and training it to your head. Your eye wanders to Loudmouth, who makes a disgusted face as the men let out pleasured noises; one of them brushes the tip of his member against her lips as the other deprives her of the last bits of her clothing, ready to make good on their promise. ‘Let me at least send you off happy, no?’

You feel great.

A surge of power courses through you.

‘Bloody – !’

You can feel the heat in your eye socket as the world seems to slow down – your muscles tense and relax in a strange sort of tug-of-war; your prosthetic slams upwards into his throat; around you, roars are heard as you grab the masked man before he hits the ground, bending his arm at an extreme angle and…

Snaps his radius and ulna in half out of sheer force. The guns train on you quickly – the stress on your body from moving at such a speed almost makes you want to bend over and vomit, but you suck it up. There must have been less than two seconds that had gone by since you’d started; no one else was moving – the masked man was your shield, your insurance… for at least, the next second. Before he can bark the order, you unholster his secondary arm, burying two bullets each into two of the would-be executioners; the other two men raise their rifles and take aim at you… until The Vice-Admiral sees fit to take opportunity to disable the both of them; he knocks the first one to the ground… and before the remaining man realizes, buries a shot – which you bet was accidental – in the head of the remaining one.

Loudmouth’s two would-be rapists manage to gather themselves, taking the safeties off their machineguns; but one of them falls over from the pool of his pants into the beach. Loudmouth grabs the weapon from the sand… and empties the clip into him just as you dash towards the last man standing, holding him up as your gauntlet presses against his windpipe. You don’t feel hesitant, you don’t feel… anything.

Especially not mercy.

Crick!

Behind you, you hear a few … and the chatter of Roughneck.

You'd survived. Somehow.

It hits you all at once and you double over; your body is telling you to blow chunks but your stomach is just empty

How long had you been kneeling here now?

‘Hey, you all right?’ Loudmouth nears you, nude and shivering, but her eyes laced with concern.

>Write-In

>>830461
been better

>>830461
Im alive, thats good enough for now

>>830461
>"I'll be alright. Are you going to be okay?"

>>830461
should have done more exercises....but definitely better than a minute ago

>>830461
Never felt better

>>830475
>>830498
>>830518
>>830526
>>830528
Literally 5 answers that cancel each other out. Doi.

>>830541
I'll swap to this
>>830528

>>830518
>"I'll be alright. Are you going to be okay?"

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>>830461
>Never better

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‘Just give me… a minute.’ You try to catch your breath; your heart must be beating a mile a second now. Your brain feels like it’s being run over by a marching band, but you take solace that whatever price you may have paid, it was worth it to be able to taste fresh air, for at least another moment. ‘I’ll be all right – are you…?’

Despite the gravity of the situation, you can’t help but look. Loudmouth was anything but uneasy on the eyes, and while her form wasn’t as full as Takao’s or as built as Nagato’s… you take a while to appreciate the lithe, cat-like quality of her form; not that you could make much of it, as dark as it was. You turn away as you feel something rise from your belly and gets stuck in your throat; Loudmouth brings you to your feet; your views is groggy, but you see Roughneck and The Vice-Admiral heading towards you, clutching their weapons.

‘What’s with your eye?’

‘Medical condition.’ You manage – you wish you could burp or something, but it looks like nothing’s coming out.

He only nods, gesturing for Loudmouth to don herself up proper, before giving out commands to do away with the bodies – your eyes turn down to the masked man, kicking his bleeding, but ultimately dead form to make sure he wasn’t going to come up again. The moonlight shone on the aftermath on the scene; you can feel your eye throbbing and glowing – Roughneck orders Loudmouth to cover up – reluctantly, she detaches herself from you, probably afraid that you’d fall over yourself trying to get your balance right again.

At least you hadn’t fainted this time.

Your prosthetic weighs heavily… and you feel someone press against it. Roughneck hands you your pistol – you can’t make out his expression, but you can tell that he’s hesitant to say or do anything else; he’d seen you, a practical nobody, bury a whole Squadron after seeing you miss fifteen test shots in a row in your crash course.

He had reason to be apprehensive.

‘You need to get moving.’ He starts quietly – his tone’s a lot softer than it was before… perhaps he had found reason to be appreciative that you hadn’t ended up being just dead weight. ‘Jackrabbit and Loudmouth are going to go in with you Ahab to retrieve the assets. Zamboni and I will dispose of the bodies and patrol the area – see if there’s anything we can do to keep them blind for a bit longer. Clock’s ticking. Get on your feet, soldier.’

You do. The both of you move towards the cove and the fence surrounding it… where he takes out a set of keys and turns the lock. He must have procured it from one of the bodies.

He hands them over to you. Loudmouth and Jackrabbit approach you, the Vice-Admiral trailing them, re-equipped as upi enter; it’s a quiet walk until you reach a dead end… where there is a ladder heading upwards and a hatch door.

>Ladder
>Hatch door
>Split up
>Consult your eye 2/2

>>830792
>>Split up
I'm thinking we should save the eye for later.

>>830792
Hatch door. save eye for when we're a litte bit further in
Do not Split up

>>830792
>hatch door
gloating guard dog said basement

>>830792
>Hatch door

>>830792
>>Hatch door
damn think highlight it all

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‘We go down the hatch door.’ You near the door, only to have the dark features of Jackrabbit pull you back.

‘Hey, hang on, I don’t know what kinda hot shit you think you’re playing here Mr Consultant, but this is still an operation falling under our command – and that means it’s Loudmouth’s call as the most senior officer in the immediate vicinity.’ He says it like it’s right out of the rule book, rearing on you to asset his presence. ‘We don’t need anymore dyin’ on some hunch.’

‘Hatch door.’ Loudmouth walks past Jackrabbit; you hand the keys over to her as she moves past you, almost casually.

‘Hatch door.’ Jackrabbit nods in immediate agreement.

You lean against the wall as Loudmouth tries to find the keys for the two locks on either side of the door. It makes you wonder why they would have double-locked it in the first place when the hatch looked heavy enough to be able to need more than just one person to push or pull open. Loudmouth takes a few minutes of trial and error before managing to turn all the locks; the door is heavy as it looks – turning the valve, Jackrabbit and The Vice-Admiral give the thing an almighty push before she leans in to check the space you were entering.

The corridor eerily reminded you of Aquarius base… only now you were personally setting foot onto the muddy floor – the whole facility looked like it was built into the cove and cliffs; Loudmouth gestures for the three of your to keep low and out of sight – she pushes you against the wall and gestures upwards; there was a camera turning, albeit slowly… the four of you usher yourselves out.

‘This is bad.’ Loudmouth lets out, straightening the straps of her top. ‘If they have a synchronized system, we’re going to have molds of trouble. Roughneck, this is Loudmouth, do you read?’

‘I read you, Loudmouth.’

‘We’re trying to penetrate to the basement… but there looks to be some synchronized cameras – it’s not going to be easy with the four of us going in. You have any plans?’

‘We’re just about done throwing the bodies into the sea… if you can give us some time, we can try to disable the main wiring, but they’ll notice; we have no idea where their central viewing hub is so if they see something going down, you can bet your ass that someone’s going to notice.’ There’s a pause. ‘Although, there is one other suggestion. The resolution should still be tiny enough to not recognize any tiny changes; I ain’t ever heard of a colored camera yet, so if one of you folks can put on one of these uniforms, they won’t recognize you right away… but the way they are, if you run into someone up close, you’re going to have to deal with them personally.’

Loudmouth shares a look with you.

>‘We don’t have time. I’ll head your way and pickup the change of clothes.’
>‘Cut the wiring.’
>Write-In

>>830931
>>‘We don’t have time. I’ll head your way and pickup the change of clothes.’
less time they know we're here the better, plus letting the VA take point on this one might be the best thing

>>830931
>>‘We don’t have time. I’ll head your way and pickup the change of clothes.’

>>830931
>>‘We don’t have time. I’ll head your way and pickup the change of clothes.’

have we lost anyone of our team?

>>830979
Blueblood and Stomper are gone

I have some work to do. See you folks in several hours.

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‘This Ishmael, Roughneck. I’m coming your way to pick up the change of clothes.’

‘All right. Give us 5 minutes and we’ll meet you at the front gate.’

You run to the front of the entrance to the cave; the moonlight shone on a clean beach, the bodies of the fallen – Stomper and Blueblood included – were gone. A sense of loss comes over you as you realize that you had indeed, for the first time in your life… killed. However, it was also accompanied by a dullness that came right after – a sense of empathy that seemed strangely… eroded compared to before. You hadn’t found joy in it – not when you snapped the man’s neck, not when you’d used their Commander as a human kevlar vest. A voice known only to you whispers in your ear.

It’s either you or them.

‘Ishmael.’

You approach the bars – Roughneck hands you over the heavy set of clothes, a heavy stench coming with them – a mix of blood and dirt.

‘Good luck.’ He declares; you acknowledge it with a nod. ‘We’ll be taking care of anyone heading your way out here, so don’t worry about anything from this end. The bodies are taken care of… but those clothes are the best we could find. Everything else had too many bullet holes in them or just too much shit on ‘em to be of use.’ He gestures for you to be on your way. ‘Hope nothing goes bad getting in; you’re gonna need better getting out.’

You rush back to the waiting trio with the suits, which Jackrabbit takes… and scrunches his nose at the strong scent.

‘There’re only two suits left over without significant damage… but I’m gonna tell ya, these IDs are pretty much idiot-proof.’ He sets them on his lap, crouching. ‘We can’t recreate these tags with what we got right now, so what you can do is try to find the central viewing hub and take it over from whoever’s manning it; the resolution on the cameras are not going to recognize you as hostiles and they can’t tell a dirty uniform from a clean one.’

‘You’re sure?’ The Vice-Admiral turns to him.

‘The black and white contrast in camera feeds aren’t as good as we got here.’ Jackrabbit taps above his eye. That made sense – television was just so grainy at times you wonder if an age would come where you could get a clearer picture where the contrast wasn’t so horrible. Colored televisions were not that much better than the old black and white sets. ‘The most they’ll probably think about it is that one of their soldiers got wet in the damn toilet; when we’re face-to-face, though, that’s when the real trouble’s going to start.’

‘There’s only two suits here. The other two are going to have to wait until we disable before coming in.’ Loudmouth turns to you and the Vice-Admiral. ‘Who do you think should go in?’

Pick 2
>Ahab
>Ishmael
>Loudmouth
>Jackrabbit

>>831131
Ahab and Jackrabbit are probably the best suited to going in and taking the observation hub.

>>831131
Ahab and jackrabbit

>>831131
>Ahab and jackrabbit

>>831131
>>Ahab and jackrabbit

>>831131
Ahab and jackrabbit

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Jackrabbit and The Vice-Admiral don the clothes – Jackrabbit states his discomfort on the smell of the set but otherwise agrees to it; The Vice-Admiral, being the antagonistic military man, of course, finds the opportunity to jibe how the Navy didn’t make Special Forces like they used to – last time they lasted in a bog for more than five minutes before crying for their mothers. Jackrabbit’s glare and Loudmouth’s playing with the nozzle of her rifle has you actually playing diplomat between all three before a melee broke out. Sometimes you just didn’t understand why The Vice-Admiral would –

‘So if you want to respect the memory of your two seniors, you better suck it up and play your part.’ The Vice-Admiral finishes – you recognize it as the mode of voice that he had taken when you’d first met. ‘We still need you on point and in the game, Jackrabbit. The mission timer doesn’t end until we’re dead or the assets are off-site.’ He gets to his feet. ‘Open the door, Loudmouth – we’ll try to find the viewing hub and will comm you back. If we’re not back…’ he lets out an amused chuckle, ‘you’ll know.’

An opinion finally reaches you on the brand of humor that The Vice-Admiral enjoyed: dark.

You and Loudmouth pull on the hatch… and The Vice-Admiral walks in with Jackrabbit, their weapons holstered and hidden as well as they could be – hopefully no one would notice the guns not being of standard issue… but you suppose that when they saw the mismatch, that would be the least of their issues. For now, though… you’d have to just sit back and wait. Leaning against the wet part-rock, part-cement and part-metal wall, Loudmouth stands by the ladder, prepared if anyone would come down – your mind wanders to her, wondering just how she was holding up; if it hadn’t been for your jumping in, she would have been lying on the beach instead of them… or worse.

‘In my line of work, you expect the worst when you do you job half-assed.’ For emphasis, she pats her lap. ‘You don’t have to worry about me holding up – at this point in a career, you kind of expect yourself to go through some sort of fuck-up and paying the price for it.’

‘I wasn’t thinking about it.’

‘Yeah, you were.’ She smirks in your direction; it reminded you of Nachi, weirdly enough. She closes her eyes and leans her back. ‘None of us wouldn’t have taken this job… this career, if we didn’t know we’d have to bite it one day.’

You say nothing.

The minutes pass…

>Talk with her (Specify)
>Stay quiet until Ahab and Jackrabbit return
>Write-In

>>832716
>>Stay quiet until Ahab and Jackrabbit return
Better to stay sharp rather than distract Loudmouth with a conversation.

>>832716
>>Stay quiet until Ahab and Jackrabbit return

>>832716
>Stay quiet until Ahab and Jackrabbit return

>>832716
>>Stay quiet until Ahab and Jackrabbit return

>>832716
>Stay quiet until Ahab and Jackrabbit return

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‘Jackal Squadron, this is Jackrabbit.’ Jackrabbit’s voice comes to life over the audio channel… if a little full of static, making the both of you get to your feet. You’re surprised that it had taken them so fast – you count barely 15 minutes had gone by since they went past the door. ‘We found the viewing hub – this seems to be the one just for the inside of this facility, though, so anyone on the outside’ll still have to stay out of the base or out of sight. Hostiles engaged but were taken care of – no weapon discharge.’

‘There’s more than one viewing hub?’ You question into your bead, frowning.

‘Not good to put all your eggs in one basket, I guess.’ Jackrabbit returns. By the tone he takes, you can tell that you’re still in the safe zone so far. ‘Still, I think most of the corridors are under our control. I don’t expect anyone to come in here for patrol, but you’re going to have to watch them in the corridors – there’re more than just guards going around; we’ve got some shady looking tools moving left and right with some scientists; the next scheduled shift change isn’t going to be for a few hours, so we’re good.’ He lets out an impressed whistle over the channel. ‘I tell you, though, Ahab’s a friggin’ badass when he wants to be.’

‘Cut the casual chatter. We’re coming in.’ Loudmouth nears the door, gesturing for you to pull it with her. ‘How do we get to your position?’

‘That’s a negative, Loudmouth. We’ve got the hub, your job and Ishmael’s is to find Yamato and Musashi and relay their position back to Ahab.’ It’s the voice of Roughneck. The both of you share a look. ‘We’re running on borrowed time as is. Ahab, you’re on standby until Loudmouth and Ishmael complete recon. Do not act alone.’ The both of you grunt as you pull the door open. ‘Get going, people.’

The both of you rush in. The corridors were mostly metal and pipes, lined with fluorescent lights above – the facility was an odd amalgamation of cement, steel and the rock of the cliffs, and if anything, it looked like one of those cheesy lairs from those old spy movies that you’d seen before. It’s not long before you step off dirt and onto cement and a narrow hallway with odd language sprinkled along the side with warnings stripes here and there. The odd camera doesn’t get your attention – as far as you were concerned, they were a non-factor. Right now, your focus was on trying to find Musashi and Yamato’s location. Not that it was hard – there didn’t look to be any forks for the time –

Loudmouth grabs you before you can turn another corner.

Just as you hear voices.

Hostiles.

‘Right off the bat, huh?’ She taps her gun.

You flex your prosthetic fingers.

Use it as you wish…

>Swift Takedown 3/4
>Magic Eye 2/2
>Let Loudmouth take them out
>Wait until they leave

>>832891
>Swift Takedown 3/4
Should've taken some pocket sand with us.

>>832891
>>Swift Takedown 3/4

>>832891
>Let Loudmouth take them out

>>832891
>Let Loudmouth take them out

>>832891
>>Let Loudmouth take them out

>>832891
>>Let Loudmouth take them out

>>832891
>>Let Loudmouth take them out

>>832891
>>Magic Eye 2/2

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‘How are we going to do this?’ You whisper to her – around the corner, you hear the two men approaching the corner. Wondering why there was no warning from the viewing hub, you notice that this particular part of the facility’s corridors were a bit of a blind spot – it would make sense to have a patrol approaching this place.

‘Hold this for me.’

She takes out her knife, handing you her gun in the same motion. The guards approach your corner, chatting away about something in their language; closer and closer they step… and you find your anxiety rising, almost dropping her rifle.

You see a boot step out from the corner.

Loudmouth pounces, kneeing the closest guard and shoving her knife up the jaw of one of the soldiers, preventing him from screaming for help… and finishes the motion with an almighty push that penetrated the roof of his mouth and up his skull, shoving him violently head first into the concrete wall, ending him with a crack that makes you wince. The man she had kneed gathers himself, clutching his groin and reaching for his rifle – almost on instinct, you raise Loudmouth’s rifle to do away with him… but find she had it under control, shoving her hand in his mouth and pulling… hard – he lets out struggling, gargling noises, his feet and legs twitching as his eyes grow tearful and he begs the best he can for her to stop.

You look away – just as a squelching sound reaches your ears, making you wince and crouch, clutching yourself. The sounds, save for Loudmouth’s steps and breathing, had now ceased. You turn around to see her cold, dead eyes staring down at her handiwork, rubbing away at the blood and saliva on her hands as though it were nothing more than dirt. She straightens her straps and dusts off her pants, crackling her knuckles as she approaches you.

‘We have to hide the bodies.’

She gestures to an air-flow unit just down the corridor. You don’t argue with her, dragging the bodies of the now-dead men towards the units… and dumping them in the small nook between the device and the wall. Loudmouth wipes away the sweat from her brow, shouldering her weapon and gesturing for you to follow her. Gathering yourself, you trail behind her – the place was surprisingly scarce… until you reach an overlook onto a large room that housed heavy machinery. There are a few personnel in view – but otherwise, no more soldiers.

The patrol back then may have just been a courtesy.

‘I see you, Ishmael.’ You hear the crackle of the bead. It’s Jackrabbit. ‘We haven’t found your girls yet, but there’re two entry points that we found leading to lower levels nearby. There’s an elevator on that lower platform… and there’re stairs in the corridor on your right.’

Loudmouth turns to you.

>‘We go down by the stairs. No use missing floors, even if it is a bit of a risk.’
>‘We can risk taking the elevator.’
>Magic Eye 2/2
>Observe the lower and upper platforms
>Write-In

>>833144
>>Magic Eye 2/2
now is the ideal time to use it
>‘We go down by the stairs. No use missing floors, even if it is a bit of a risk.’

>>833144
>>Observe the lower and upper platforms

>>833144
>Magic Eye 2/2

>>833222
checked

>>833144
>>Magic Eye 2/2

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‘Hang on, I’m going to try something.’ You let out a breath, moving your eyepatch away. Loudmouth gives you a confused look, but doesn’t protest otherwise; if there was any time to play the unfair game, it was now.

You see nothing you usually wouldn’t upon taking off the eyepatch. Last time you had needed a trigger from Akashi to find out, but right now… as the whole room comes into focus, you let in a breath. A growing sense of discomfort hits you – whatever had happened on the beach… it had tuned you in even more to these new abilities; your eye feels like its spinning in its socket as colors become known to you; red, yellow, green… faint, but recognizable. Loudmouth is shaking you – you must be in a reverie of sorts to her, now… but you don’t listen. Cotton seems to fill your ears as a pulse echoes through your brain. These were things that you weren’t supposed to comprehend – that you were not built to know or understand…

Which was why you knew that the both of them were close. There was no way in the world that you could feel the pulses, the colors – the whispers, they reaches your ears, pierces you right into your soul. You can feel yourself struggling to raise your head – it weighs like a tonne in these circumstances, but you had to get a good look around – you can hear them. It’s not unlike an echo chamber, the ringing becoming louder by the second.

The colors explodes. A river seems to erupt from the walls and the ceiling, swirling around, searching for something. Like two bursting stars, they shine – above or below, it seemed that you were in a world of your own, floating… above your head was Loudmouth –

The river flows around you… as the world turns and the colors swirl, and you see…

The ceiling.

You drop back into reality… and feel like you’d run over a mountain twice. Your eyes – both of them – feel like they’d been pierced with bullets.

‘We’re not in the basement. We’re in the sub-basement. Yamato and Musashi aren’t on this level.’ You reach for your bead, resting on all fours and closing your eye – you try not to faint there and then… the strain was about a million times more than it had been with Akashi. Loudmouth gets you to your feet, her bewilderment more apparent than before; drool drops from the corner of your mouth. ‘Musashi and Yamato are in a floor above us.

‘Checking security feed.’ Jackrabbit voices over the comm. It’s a while before he checks back. ‘I don’t see anything unusual up top. Nothing but offices and guys in coats and maintenance crew – doesn’t look like a heavy security level. You sure?’

‘I’m sure.’

‘You’re going to have to take the stairwell. I don’t know where the elevator leads, but it’s not up.’

>Scan the area more
>Head to the stairwell
>Write-In

>>833604
>>Head to the stairwell

>>833604
>>Head to the stairwell

>>833604
>>Head to the stairwell

>>833604
>Head to the stairwell

>>833604
>>Head to the stairwell
went a little too far down.

>>833604
>>Head to the stairwell

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‘Stairwell.’ You nod; Loudmouth moves to pick you up, but you hold up a hand. Loudmouth is reluctant to let you go – and you couldn’t blame her, with you being barely able to stand, stumbling upon yourself on all fours she had cause for the reluctance; still, you’d be slowing the both of you down if you didn’t manage to at least keep up the pace.

Thankfully, your little trip hadn’t garnered the notice of any of the personnel on the lower or upper decks. You gather yourself and with your prosthetic, give yourself an almighty push up right to your feet. Loudmouth takes the lead, tip-toeing the best she can manage without getting any attention – from the decks up and down, the last thing you wanted was one of them to trip off an alarm. They don’t notice until you get to the corridor, where, again, you see a camera and point forwards, indicating the direction that you would take. The facility was oddly built – and from some of the cement, you can tell that well-maintained as it was, it probably took a lot more cash than you could hope to lay eyes on to maintain.

To the naked eye, it may have seemed like a hole in the ground by the sea, but anyone who walked the corridors knew that time, effort and manpower had been put in here – a set of security cameras lining up hallways where stone, paint, metal and cement met? You could bet there was some investment going on here. The corridors are empty; air flow units and cameras – now commandeered by your allies are all that you see until you reach a railing and the metal stairwell. Loudmouth gestures for you to stay back behind the wall as she nears it, checking to see if it were safe. You couldn’t blame her for being paranoid.

This wasn’t your territory. This was hers.

The both of you slowly make your way up the stairwell, leaning against the wall – step by step you make it from landing to landing; so far, your luck held. No one was making rounds, no one was looking down the stairwell with a clean shot; leaning against the walls and walking up looked like an odd measure of movement, but considering the risks if you decided to just rush up blindly, you’d be glad for the laughter. After what seemed like an eternity, you reach the next level – not the top of the stairwell, but the level directly above the sub-basement.

There’s a door with the barker B-1 on it.

Loudmouth moves her hand on the doorknob… and turns it.

The corridor was lined with metal and pipes. The stone and cement were no longer seen – you duck into the nearest pipe and hide yourself as best you can, gesturing for Loudmouth to join you. At the end of each corridor were several men in coats, and on one side were a series of walls – security wasn’t present, and the nook you were in kept the both of you covered… for now.

You notice signage in a foreign tongue painted onto the wall. Neither of you understand it.

>Follow the signs
>Go in the opposite direction

>>834048
>>Follow the signs
signs in secret bases generally point towards important things. like examination rooms or labs

>>834048
>Follow the signs

>>834048
>>Follow the signs

>>834048
>Go in the opposite direction

>>834048
>>Go in the opposite direction
swapping from >>834069

File: Vad Ees Meenink Of Zees.png (252 KB, 844x447)

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‘Jackrabbit, Ahab, is there anything you can find on this floor?’

The both of you make a break for it down the corridor; there didn’t seem to be much about this floor other than the fact that it was a lot cleaner and less steam-filled than the sub-basement had been. Most of the scientists – if they could even be called that – had emptied the halls into their offices; throughout your little jaunt along the floor, you find several dead ends, but otherwise, nothing to actually impede your progress – the arrows lead all over the place, but ultimately get you nowhere.

The one consolation you had was that at least you didn’t end up where you started again.

‘Can’t tell where the cameras are at – the whole system’s in Krol; I can’t make heads or tails of what’s looking where, only which floor it’s on.’ Jackrabbit lets out, a crackle reaching your ears as Loudmouth pushing you around another large pipe. There was probably someone around the corner. ‘You’re safe for the time being, though – whoever the coats are, they’re gone for now… but they’re definitely not military; I don’t see any guards on this floor – it’s kinda weird if you ask me.’

Loudmouth peers around the corner, casual as can be, before gesturing for you to approach.

‘Not weird at all – if you’re doing research, having someone with a gun next to you tends to be a demotivator.’ You try not to chuckle. ‘You sure there isn’t anything you can find on this floor that can lead us to the assets?’

‘No, ma’am. The viewing hub only has views on corridors and doors – nothing on rooms, bays or anything else.’ Jacktabbit replies over the comm. He adds on, ‘Guys must like their privacy enough to do away; security on this floor’s a lot more lax than it was outside, I tell ya.’

‘Then this has to be the floor.’ Loudmouth replies. ‘Get out of there before anyone else finds you. You and Ahab have to make your way to the stairwell and up where we are; bust the feeds before you leave. No sense leaving them a trail of breadcrumbs.’ She hesitates, before adding on. ‘Exercise caution.’

‘Will do, ma’am.’

She steps out of the corner, gesturing for you to follow her down the next corridor and in front one of the doors with several characters written in Krol. She turns to the camera by the corner, giving it a gesture – one last signal for Ahab and Jackrabbit as to the location… before turning the door open and heading inside. You follow her in…

And come face-to-face with three scientists, gathered around a television set… the opening credits of a movie beginning to play.

There were a set of two bunk beds, a table littered with cards and a whole manner of files and packets of food littered all overt the floor.

‘Vad ees meenink of zees?!’

One of them spoke your language.

Loudmouth gives her rifle an audible pat.

>Let Loudmouth do her thing
>Interrogate them yourself
>Write-In

>>834242
>>Let Loudmouth do her thing
let the professional do the job

>>834242
>>Let Loudmouth do her thing

>>834242
>>Let Loudmouth do her thing

>>834242
>>Let Loudmouth do her thing

>>834242
>Let Loudmouth do her thing

File: I Told You.jpg (141 KB, 1920x1080)

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‘Don’t move.’ Loudmouth begins in a casual tone. There is no authority in it, no weight or malice – it’s a simple request; her rifle’s safety is not clicked – she doesn’t intend to fire… at least not now. The scientists look at her in bewilderment, adjusting their glasses as they tried to comprehend their situation; one of them opens their mouth to speak… only to be silenced by the sound of a clicking lock – Loudmouth had pressed the button on the door. ‘Turn up the television… and we can sit down and talk.’

‘We… We have no money.’ One of them looks around fearfully, looking beside himself with fright. He gets to his feet. ‘Please, if it’s the television that you want… just take it and go. We – We don’t want any trouble, please. We… We just work here.’

‘I won’t kill any of you.’ Loudmouth takes a sickly sweet tone, gesturing to you. ‘My friend, here, though… he’s a different story. So if you kind gentlemen would just turn up the volume and sit down… we can actually start, all right? Take a deep breath… and speak. If you tell me something I don’t already know, I will not hesitate in breaking a few bones… or let him,’ she gives your chest a friendly pat, ‘have his own little way with you. I suppose a bunch of intelligent men like yourselves understand that?’

You don’t say a word, taking in Loudmouth’s dangerous smile as you lean by the door, arms crossed and trying your best to look intimidating. Your eye and arm must have been better negotiators than your tongue, because they nod insistently and keep themselves seated, waiting for Loudmouth to speak.

‘I’m not interested in ending anymore lives than I have to – I don’t have enough bullets to go around.’ She begins, seating herself on the table. ‘So think very carefully before you start answering my questions… and tread very, very lightly when it comes to my tolerance. So, seeing as you look like you’re the most senior man on the block, why don’t I start with you?’

She gestures to the only standing scientist – he doesn’t look the least bit interested in complying.

‘You are after our research, then?’ He snarls, advancing on her. ‘Then forget it. Bury us all in your bullets, svinya; I have no time for these pleasantries.’

Her expression doesn’t change as she gets to her feet. The other two scientists stumble away as she grabs the man by the throat and brings out her knife again – the others open their mouths, staring at you in fear for their own lives, praying in Krol. The elderly scientist stares her down… for all of two seconds, before being slammed to the floor. You hear a small pop – something must have been displaced from the impact.

‘I told you not to tell me something I already know.’

The man struggles… and his eyes roll back…

>‘I didn’t bring you here to kill an unarmed man.’ (Stop her)
>‘…’ (Do nothing)
>Write-In

>>834405
>>‘…’ (Do nothing)

>>834405
>‘…’ (Do nothing)

Be back in several hours. Prayers and picking up cousins.

>>834405
>‘…’ (Do nothing)

>>834412
>>834413
>>834419
If it were a woman, you guys would choose the other option.

>>834427
I wouldn't. As far as I'm concerned, Loudmouth is a professional, and I'm confident that she won't go too far with the interogation.

>>834405
>>‘…’ (Do nothing)

>>834436
Agreed, not to mention it's likely that these guys have something to do with the captive kanmusu

>>834436
>>834488
I have a whole bunch of people wanting to get together with Seaport Hime despite her killing millions and displacing even more.

>>834539
A-at least I understand that it's not exactly a thing we should do. ;_:

File: Trying To Find A Good Way(...).jpg (89 KB, 850x638)

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She takes out the sidearm, pointing it at the two cowering men by the table. The TV runs the contents of its tape – a monster movie with whatever creature rising from a volcano and roaring audibly to several badly-acted civilians – as she eases her hold on the old man, who doesn’t struggle. His face is practically stone, even with his limp grip on his assailant’s throat; you don’t move at all, standing back and watching the scene unfold with a faint sense of detachment. Your silence is echoed by the other two men, who wilt under the powerful weight of Loudmouth’s glare.

So even humans can be monsters when they want to be.

We’re monsters when we need to be.

Monsters nonetheless. Don’t let me stop you.

You don’t know why it just takes so long.

Looking away you can hear the pressing of his throat, just how much pressure she places on that one grip – a soldier’s grip, hands that have killed dozens by now, you realize – and his legs just don’t stop twitching. She’s whispering something to him, something he doesn’t agree with – his tongue is caught within his purse lips and the knife is there, standing upright after being thrust tip-first into the floor. He tries to actually get up, to struggle against his would-be killer’s grip, but he was old – and even though Loudmouth was built deceptively slender, you can tell that she had done this before – and thus unable to fight more.

He’s trying to yell something out; a plea or a curse you can’t tell… but his eyes tell more and more every time they roll back. You can hear his breath stopping and going by Loudmouth’s hand… the other two are too frightened, too caught up in the moment to even move. The man shakes his head at some thing Loudmouth whispers… and this time, she presses with all her might, all her strength.

He doesn’t struggle. She doesn’t hesitate.

She was done talking.

‘Y – You said you wouldn’t kill him! You said!’ One of them cries out, throwing a fearful glance at you. The other one shrinks, making some sort of religious gesture as you push yourself off the door and nearing the table. They’re frightened beyond all measure… but their thoughts are with the man about to let out his last breaths.

‘Please! Please!’ The other one calls out, bringing his hands together and turning to you. ‘He is old, he has family! Please! Please! You understand, yes?’

Loudmouth doesn’t seem to hear… or care, and you see his legs convulse. Her eyes are covered by her hair from your angle, and you hesitate… and a thought reaches you.

You were doing this to save Yamato and Musashi… for Nagato.

Would she have seen this means as the justification to its end?

‘P – Please, he – we only doing job.’

Would she?

>Watch him die
>‘That’s enough, Loudmouth.’ (Stop her)

>>834551
>‘That’s enough, Loudmouth.’ (Stop her)

>>834551
>Watch him die

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>>834551
>Watch him die

>>834551
Holy shit. I thought this was Kantai Collection Quest. WTF are we playing an accessory to murder?

Jesus.

>>834551
>>‘That’s enough, Loudmouth.’ (Stop her)

>>834569
Oops, left trip on.

>Stop her

>>834572
>>834573
You guys are fucking heroes, you know that?

>>834576
I thought this was a Kantai Collection Quest. The fuck is with the Splinter Cell lite bullshit?

>>834589
Have you read any of the threads leading up to this before? You're on a mission to rescue two KanMusu from the clutches of another nation. Scroll to the top and you can get a summary of the situation.

>>834551
>‘That’s enough, Loudmouth.’ (Stop her)

File: Why Are You Here Then.png (249 KB, 900x675)

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‘That’s enough, Loudmouth.’ You approach her, putting your hand on her shoulder.

The reaction is almost immediate.

She grabs her knife, whirling around from crouch to stand – the knife slices through the air gracefully, its edge stained with blood and her hold on it steady; there is no intent, no malice, it’s a reactionary instinct. It’s aimed for your throat; the move is less than a millisecond away from making it there, tip-first. Her eyes are still dull… and still focused; time slows down and your senses go into overdrive, a whirring and clicking sound coming from your eye as the instinct for self-preservation activates.

Your prosthetic raises in a lightning quick counter-movement, grasping the knife by its edge as an uncomfortable screeching sound of metal grinding against metal presents itself to you. A flash of life appears in her eyes; you feel the force on the blade easing right through your prosthetic. Her grip, though, is still strong… and the tip of her knife is still pointed with your throat as its final destination. You don’t know if it’s a trained instinct or if she was really that titchy from your interference in her interrogation.

You’d killed and not felt a thing. That was about half an hour ago.

You were not going to let someone die helpless as his friends watched and pleaded for his life. That was now.

‘That’s enough.’ A firm tone escapes your lips. Authoritative and hardened, you glare your disapproval at her – and she lets go of her knife’s grip – once you were certain she was sufficiently calmed down, you hand it over to her before making your way towards the confused – but thankfully alive – elderly scientist.

The whole room’s atmosphere had taken a turn for the odd. You gesture for the two men to bring the chair by the table over… you half-expect them to knock you over the head with it,

‘You’re one of the scientists heading the project to replicate KanMusu weaponry and Fairy Magic for the use of Haszad Union.’ You state. He doesn’t reply. ‘I don’t care for any of that.’ That’s a half-lie, but it’s definitely not a priority right now. ‘What I want to know is how to find the two Battleships – Super Dreadnoughts – Yamato and Musashi.’

‘I will not betray my country, soldier.’ He doesn’t say it with malice, nor with disdain. It’s more as though he was stating a fact. ‘Neither will they, when it comes down to it. We have ideals far greater than whoever your Masters are.’ He coughs; behind him one of the men pats him on the back, to which he utters something in Krol in return.

The man at the back turns a worried gaze to you.

‘I’m not doing this for my country or money.’

‘Then why are you here, malchik?’

You take a deep breath.

>Write-In

>>834551
>‘That’s enough, Loudmouth.’ (Stop her)

>>834628
to return the friends of someone dear to me

I'll give you guys 45 minutes for this one, since I now how stressful Write-In only options are.

>>834628
"Because they deserve to go home."

>>834628
to save humanity, they are needed to stop the abyssals
do you think the abyss will care of how far from the sea you are?, of your nationality, of your religion? they hate us ALL
and you and your contry is going to let the way to save the damn world for mere national grudges?
does humanity means so little to you, and your beloved contry?

>>834628
Because I finally found a place I belong and I want to do everything I can to keep it.

>>834628
Because the world is bigger than Haszad, and without the two of them, we all move one step closer to getting wiped out.

>>834663
this

>>834649
>to save humanity, they are needed to stop the abyssals
>do you think the abyss will care of how far from the sea you are?, of your nationality, of your religion? they hate us ALL
>and you and your contry is going to let the way to save the damn world for mere national grudges?
>does humanity means so little to you, and your beloved country?
this sounds good

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‘As a favor.’

He balks.

‘You expect me to believe that…’ He gets to his feet, furious and snarling. ‘You are here, barging into my room, demanding where important war assets are as a favor? to what?’ He points at you, grinning maliciously. ‘A nation? A politician? Your precious… Shamans?’

‘To someone who I care about deeply enough to try something as crazy as this.’ You grimace, chuckling despite yourself. ‘Not joking.’

‘I am old, child, and am being slightly hard of hearing.’ He puts a finger in his ear, clearing out imaginary wax. ‘You do this voluntarily? No coercion or obligation? No threats?’

‘None whatsoever.’ You answer casually.

His snarl grows more malicious.

‘Then you might as well shoot me, neudachnik.’ He closes the distance between the both of you, jabbing you in the chest with as much force as he could muster. ‘To someone with no principles, even I wouldn’t yield.’

You could almost feel it.

‘Principles? What’s the good of a stance when The Abyssals are on everyone’s doorsteps? How do – ?’

‘Proudly I will do anything in the service of my nation.’ His temper flares, glaring at you… then at Loudmouth. ‘We are moving on with this little project because The Senate has finally realized that we are helpless before the eldritch forces of the deep – this is our salvation; our way forward after the abandonment of The League of Nations to our needs. They expect The Senate to just let their thoughts leave those of our nation? Preposterous.’ He gestures to himself, his nostrils flaring. ‘Now, now is when we will finally have a fighting chance. We will be given the opportunity that you squandered years ago.’

‘You’re putting the needs of your nation above the needs of humanity.’ You reach out, disbelieving. ‘You call yourself a patriot when you so readily abandon humanity?’

‘I am not in the position to judge – I am in the position to do.’ He says it with reservation, a tinge of… something hits his voice. ‘I do not fear death nor do I cow before the face of anything that would otherwise threaten the rivers of my nation with such indifference. The people of The Union came together in order to fight a common foe – extinction, persecution. We did not ask to be made into machines of war – we became monsters out of need, not desire. You judge me with talk of humanity when your own nation drops a plague over millions to settle a war you had no stake in?’

He gives you a judgmental glare. You don’t rise to it.

‘I am old enough to remember how the League of Nations saw that as humane. It was just a pity that your hands could not comprehend that war wouldn’t be stifled. Where are your ideals when your own nation participated in one of most horrific cleansing campaigns in the history of this planet? You think I be so foolish as to believe in those ideals again?’

TBC

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‘I never brought up my country nor do I care what you think about whatever crimes you think I’m responsible for.’

He opens his mouth to retort, but you cut him off, raising your prosthetic hand. He’s taken aback by the show.

‘Before tonight, I never thought I could kill someone with my bare hands – now, now I know a lot better and I tell you, it doesn’t get any easier than a twist of the neck or an arm right through the gut. It’s just so damn easy.’ You let out a breath, finding it hard to actually take any air in right now.

The full weight of what had occurred on the beach hits you hard – harder than anything that came before. It all plays in your head again, a man out of his element with no choices at his hand… and the blur that follows. You can feel the ranting guard’s forearm in your own – and just how easily you’d snapped it, how you’d taken a gun and nonchalantly taken the lives of two other men right after… and most of all, how you just didn’t care. It was a frightening thing to behold, that sort of detachment… how you’d just gone and done it without you realizing that you’d moved to end lives. Context aside, it was something you hoped that you were never pushed to do again – you understand why Takao had been so horrified with herself; how attached and in-the-moment that she had been when she had brought and trained her guns.

It scared you that you hadn’t hesitated when it came to pulling that trigger. How you had so readily taken her hand when you were given the choice… because that there was no other way. That you’d be a demon when the time came not out of anger, hatred, or vengeance… but out of necessity.

You believe, on that front, that the both of you had common ground. To do what it took to keep pushing because the edges were so far behind you was such a human trait, after all.

‘I realized that I didn’t have any lines for myself – no threshold that I wouldn’t cross when it came to protecting what I believed in, just as you’re willing to keep your lips quiet for the sake of your country.’ You continue quietly, grimacing and gripping your hands as tightly as possible, a righteous fury rising from your bowels. ‘You’re talking to me about nations? I don’t care about those little details – I’m here because two of our most valued KanMusu and dear friends of someone I care about very much might ended up taking their last breath before dawn comes.’ You approach him, looking down with a glare you didn’t know you had in you.

TBC

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He doesn’t seem swayed, however, pushing off his two men and squaring up to you, very much defiant.

‘You are assuming that I put your loyalty to your friends above mine to my duty.’

You could laugh right now – at this moment it was hard to keep a smile from coming upon your face. Nagato had chastised you so often for hiding behind that word, when really… all you were using it for up until now was to keep your hands clean of the responsibility you had to your failures. You have to look away from him, not able to take him seriously any longer – it was like arguing with your past self.

Duty? You knew all about that.

‘I know all about duty… and I tell you, it’s something real nice to hide behind. It’s a small word, easy to throw around and convenient to show off. I know all about that word and guess what? It’s just something you use when you don’t feel what you’re doing is the right damn thing to do.’ You spare the both of his men a glance as you square yourself up to all three proper. ‘Pretend that you’re noble and doing it for a cause… and then you realize that you’re letting someone choke an unarmed man to death while his men watch and beg for his life.’

He’s taken aback by this, and stifles a retort. You make contact with the two scared scientists again, who still say nothing, afraid of either you… or the temper of the man whose life they had pleaded with you to save.

‘I’m not here to destabilize a nation or spill anymore blood other than what stands in my way. Yamato and Musashi are coming back with me – and they’re coming back alive. That’s what I decided – whether you think that’s noble or not, I don’t care. I don’t even give a damn if you think I’m Haszad’s biggest enemy, but know this, sir.’

You straighten your collar.

‘I am leaving with them.

He laughs, amused by your words.

‘You crazy, rebenok!’ He looks to both his men, who shrug. ‘You would barge in here, sneak past guards, not knowing up or down or even the basic alphabet of Krol with intention of leaving with two captured war assets with a beetch – and expect me to tell you just where they are and how to get there?’

The scientist stares at you, incredulous… before bursting out in louder, dumber laughter.

He takes out what looks like an ID from his pocket with a key attached to it.

‘Here.’ He places it in your hand, giving you a solemn nod. ‘Do not follow the signs, they will lead you into trouble – go down this hallway until you reach somewhere that looks like a maintenance hatch door with steam – it is the entrance to the corridor leading to the hangar where both of them are held – from then on… is where you’re on your own.’

‘Put your money where your mouth is. Your conviction… against this nation’s.’

>Deal with them (Specify)
>Leave them as is
>Write-In

>>834995
>Leave them as is

>>834995
>>Deal with them (Specify)
Knock'em all out and put them in the beds nearby

>>834995
>>Deal with them (Specify)
Find a way to lock them inside the room. If impossible then
>Leave them as is

>>834995
>>Deal with them (Specify)
Lock the door from the outside or otherwise prevent them from immediately leaving the room.

>>834995
>Deal with them (Specify)
>>835047

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You and Loudmouth exit the room into the empty hallway, following the instructions of the old man – who you and her had left knocked out along with his two attendants and tied up in their room before breaking off the door knob. It seemed a little rude – and he did protest to it, calling you both a bunch of backstabbing charlatans – but it was as much for your safety as it was his. If they’d found out that he had abetted you without a struggle. The corridors are as empty as they were before – after all, it was practically the morning of the next day and no sane person would be up for now, save for the guards up top.

It’s a straight shot down the corridors towards the door that the scientist had described; it did look as inconspicuous as the other hatch doors… save for the red and black zebra warnings at the top, stating that the area beyond it was probably restricted. You put the key into the hole on the left then to the corner of the door, before grabbing onto the valve together with Loudmouth… and pulling as hard as you can manage. With a whine and a groan, the door gives way, revealing another corridor, this one lined with cables and pipes like the levels below and several windows on either side.

The both of you instantly duck as you notice a pair of feet on a visible upper level – that there were at least a few patrols nearby.

‘Ahab, Jackrabbit, we’re near where the assets are held on floor B-1.’ Loudmouth whispers into her comm as the both of you both slowly make your way to the end of the corridor. ‘Do you read me?’ No one answers. ‘Ahab, Jackrabbit, we are on floor B-1, waiting for your arrival, over.’ She curses and hisses again. ‘Jackrabbit, please respond.’

Again, there was no answer.

‘We don’t have time – for now, we try to secure the assets.’ The both of you lean against the door heading into the open zone – the hangar – that the scientist had described. You didn’t know how many people were on the other side of this door – there could be dozens.

You insert your ID by the pad… which opens and reveals a key slot. You put the key inside and give it a good turn, revealing a set of stairs leading onto a metallic platform. You instantly duck behind the wall the best you can, hiding behind several large cables from a generator while Loudmouth hid behind a power block, peering over the edge to check how many hostiles there were.

She holds up a hand… and mouths and gestures for you to make a rush to one of the machinery units on the raised platform, several meters away.

You glimpse five, maybe more, as you crouch behind one large unit.

And two large containers in the middle, whose contents were hard to discern at this distance.

Footsteps approach you... you had to take care of these guards without alerting them of one another.

>Write-In

LEGEND:

GUARDS: Red
PC/Commander: Green
Loudmouth: Pink
Generators/Power Blocks/Cover: Blue
Yellow: Objective(s)?

Guns make noise and will alert everyone as to your presence, so unless you want to engage in a firefight, try to avoid their usage.

There are two takedown options and an assist option.

Lie-and-Wait: You wait for one of them to come near you before performing a takedown with your arm. Be warned that if you do this, the positions of the Guards will change. (Roll a 1d6 DC: 4)
Hunt: Go after one particular guard and perform a takedown. You will roll against the QM for an awareness check. Guard positions will not change. (Roll a 1d8)
Loudmouth: Loudmouth will attempt to take a Guard down. However, there is a chance she uses a firearm, alerting and changing the layout of the Guards.

GUARDS LEFT: 5.

Rolled 6 (1d8)

>>835221
>Hunt
and
>Loudmouth
If possible.

WOULD YOU LIKE TO SAVE YOUR GAME?

>YES
>NO

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>>835236
>YES

>>835236
>>YES
i always save before the stealth parts.

Rolled 8 (1d8)

>>835249
hunt that guy

>>835241
Commander should attack the one up near the back on the right, and Loudmouth should attack the closest one to herself.

>>835254
Auto-Win. Fuck.

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>>835230
Loudmouth

>>835249
You run as fast as you can to the back of the room, your feet quiet as you peek around each corner and confirm that there were indeed 5 guards in the facility. You hide behind one of the power blocks as you spy the man right at the back of the hangar, smoking a cigarette. Thus far, no one had seen you… you ready your arm, steadying yourself to do your thing. There’s a little bit of chatter, but it would seem that the man at the back is right out of it – no one was paying attention to him for now. You crouch, creeping on to him. He hums under his breath… before you pounce.

You wince as you feel his elbow in your gut repeatedly, but cover his mouth and drag him away from any sort of visibility. He struggles, kicking and trying to turn his head, but your hand on his mouth keeps him from yelling out. You whisper in his ear, some sort of assurance on your end as your arm slowly crushes his throat. He must have struggled for close to a minute until the lack of oxygen finally sets in; you hold him for a few more moments to be sure…

He goes fully limp.

You shove his beret into his mouth and drag him around the corner; hopefully he wouldn’t be waking up any time soon.

GUARDS LEFT: 4

Rolled 9 (1d10)

>>835270

>>835270
Loudmouth takes the opportunity to make her own move, moving past two blocks of power links in order to get to her target. This one was well within sight… but close enough that she didn’t have any more trouble dispatching her than he would have been as a fish on water. She takes out her knife, slowly creeping up on him, and covering his throat, slashes at him before dragging him behind the power links. He goes limp, reaching for the ceiling above as his blood drips onto the floor. She drops him onto the floor… before dragging his corpse behind the power block, out of sight from the rest of the troop.

There couldn’t be many left now.

GUARDS REMAINING: 3

Rolled 5 (1d6)

>>835308
lie-and-wait

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You wait as the guards have their conversation, looking around. None of them seem to notice their missing comrades, for now. You sneak behind one of the power links and crouch, keeping an eye on the small gap where you see their feet. You nurse your stomach – the squeak your boots make makes you curse as the man begins to turn the corner… just as you turn to hide one the other side of the power blocks. He calls out – you know it’s a name, an angry mood setting upon him as no one answers him back. You observe his footsteps, muttering under your breath as he slows his pace coming towards you.

As he tries to turn the next corner, your fist makes contact with his face. Your Kantai Steel prosthetic, that is.

His teeth shatter all in his mouth, but you’re not done yet. Taking your knee, you knee him where it counts – he tries to call out, but a sick grunt is all that escapes his throat; the pain must be tremendous at this point. You drop him to the ground behind one of the humming power blocks and put your knee on his throat, smothering him until he passes out.

Another one down, a little more to go.

GUARDS REMAINING: 2

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Rolled 2 (1d6)

>>835344
KEK BLESS MY ROLL!

>>835362
time to get wrecked

Rolled 5 (1d8)

>>835362
Witness me!

Rolled 3 (1d8)

>>835344
Immortan!

Rolled 1 (1d8)

>>835362

Reminder we have an unofficial Discord where we say stupid shit and discuss how to fail less.
https://discord.gg/DXsehSp

>>835362
Hey, come on, guys. Only one at a time, please.

Do this over.

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Rolled 8 (1d8)

>>835900
Let's hunt this guy.

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Loudmouth

>>835913
He doesn’t see you coming – he’d strayed too far from his post, unaware of the fate that had just met his comrades. You hear him humming to himself loudly – too loudly to catch you. You take no joy in doing this; your hand finds his throat – he elbows you much like the first one hand… and clutches your head in a counter-move. He was skilled, but he wasn’t prepared… your hand presses against his mouth. He roars in pain into your open palm, trying to get away from your grasp. If he had been a little more wise, a little less cocky, he might have found you out before you could make sense of anything else.

You take his head and push him face-first into the power block, making him stagger. He still tries to make a grab for you, but it’s weaker, so you shove it again into the bolted steel. He goes limp and you drag the body away; he was still breathing. Barely, but you see the rise in his chest go up and down, the blood making the scene a lot more gruesome than you’d intended it to be. You mutter under your breath as you bring him to a corner… and see Loudmouth at the other end of the chamber, dumping his body by one of the nooks.

No one would find him there, for now.

You don’t envy the headache he would have upon waking up later. You really don’t.

GUARDS REMAINING: 1

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>>835963
Loudmouth

Rolled 3 (1d10)

>>835976

>>835976
>>835982
The soldier looks around, realizing that he was alone; he calls out names, yelling for his comrades, laughing and saying something in Krol, walking in a circle and looking for the men that were no longer there. No one answers back, no one greets his call… and then he realizes that something must be going on. Loudmouth doesn’t bother with the theatrics. There’s no need for them – 4 bodies had fallen, and so one remained.

She wasn’t feeling particularly patient.

The sound of her gunshot rings… the scene of a headless body, dropping to its knees, spouting a fountain of blood seemingly takes an eternity to end.

The wet sound it makes making contact with the floor is disturbingly loud.

No one comes running. Loudmouth holster her rifle – the way was now clear.

GUARDS REMAINING: 0

>>836009
Typing up the next part of this little adventure. Screw you guys and screw your good rolls.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Qyqa_h7slx4

Here's something.

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You and Loudmouth rush towards the two cylindrical pods in the middle of the room. There’s an urgency that rings between the both of you now as you approach what looked like the control panel – with an ID swipe unit. You produce the scientist’s ID and swipe – several details pop up, all in the Krol tongue. You couldn’t make heads or tails of what it was; Loudmouth couldn’t either, if her confusion was anything else to go by. You’re too hesitant to click any button… when the two pods move.

You wish you hadn’t seen it what you saw.

Two skeletal forms, their hair the only thing distinguishing between the both of them, are seen – several incision marks are made along their pasty skin, mashed against what looked like bone. Their eyes are dull and unfocused… but you can tell that they’re in pain. Without thought, you do away with your restraints and reveal your eye, seeing if both of them could even be called alive. Their bodies are strapped to some sort of apparatus inside the containers, several monitors in that foreign language with displays that go up and down. There must be at least half a dozen tubes stuck into them.

A splash of colors – a flash as bright as the sun – almost makes you tumble. The rivers of green, red and blue are back again – only, instead of rivers, they look more like… hands and hair, reaching out. You back off slightly in fear as the desperation in their movements increase, as if trying to find something to hold on. The tendrils twirl and reach from the source – the two people in the pod – to the skies and past the ceiling.

Help… us…

Everything turns topsy-turvy.

You shut your eye; you knew enough now.

This was Yamato and Musashi.

The click of several rifles makes itself known to you. You close your eyes, turning around… and see a squadron of suited men glaring at you, their weapons trained on you. Loudmouth grips her own rifle tightly, expecting to be executed there and then… only for one of the soldiers to grab her rifle right out of her hands, pushing the both of you close to each other.

A man makes his way past the group of soldiers, sharply-dressed, tall, and wide. He cracks his knuckles, gesturing for the men to tend to the down bodies, marching right up to you. He looks at you with disgust behind his rimless glasses.

‘I thought something was wrong when that pissant didn’t check in with a lecture about The Old Days of Haszad. To think he’d be done in by a woman and a fat guy thinking he’s some sort of super spy.’ He sneers at you… before laughing in a thoroughly bemused tone. ‘Who the Hell do you think you are, sonny boy?’

>‘That’s not a Haszadian accent if I’ve ever heard one.’
>‘You don’t understand, these two are going to die in a few minutes if you don’t get them out of there!’
>‘You run this facility, I suppose?’
>Write-in

>>836143
>>‘You run this facility, I suppose?’

>>836143
>‘You run this facility, I suppose?’

>>836143
>>‘You run this facility, I suppose?’

>>836143
>>‘You run this facility, I suppose?’

>>836143
>‘You run this facility, I suppose?’

>>836143
>>‘You don’t understand, these two are going to die in a few minutes if you don’t get them out of there!’

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‘You run this facility, I suppose?’

‘Gee, what tipped you off?’ He raises his wrist, revealing a golden watch, before clicking his heels. ‘The watch… or my shoes?’

‘The suit, really.’ You give a nod of approval. It was a nice suit. ‘Not bad.’

‘Like it? It was made in Southern Romeria. I tell ya, they don’t make tailors like they do down there.’ He does an enthusiastic twirl, even if it looked a little silly. ‘If the world ever got wiped to shit, you can bet that the end of days itself would spare those dons in Romeria just so they can keep sewing.’

‘Not much of a fashion geek.’

‘I don’t run this facility… on paper.’ He paces up and down, straightening his suit. ‘You see, The Senate made the collective decision to detail your KanMusu… but they were afraid to get their hands anymore dirty than they already had. They gotta appear clean and presentable to the Haszadian people, you know? Show them that they care for their concessions, that their kids can afford the next video game.’ He laughs. ‘The stuff that doesn’t really matter. No one wanted to step up and risk being the fall guy – make no mistake, this is a sanctioned military operation, son, but at the end of the day, how many politicians do you think are going to risk their whole careers, their whole lives, for something that they believe in?’

‘Only if their pockets are lined up enough.’

He actually looks like he could hug you right now.

‘Exactly! Exactly!’ He emphasizes with a finger. ‘They knew this was a tactical advantage – but they didn’t want to do anything about it. Rather than let important war assets be used for what they were, they muddied themselves thinking who could do it without affecting the integrity of the institution.’ He takes a mocking tone. ‘So they ran a ballot… and I broke the damn box before I told them to shove their votes where it counted!’

‘You put yourself in a position for advancement. Doesn’t sound any less different from what you’ve been trying to sell.’

‘Yes, I have.’ He nods gravely. ‘But I do this knowing the risks and doing it for my country!’ He barks angrily… and proudly. ‘Those idiots behind their chairs only care about how this will look when their terms end. Not this Senator. I’m doing this for the survival – and GLORY OF HASZAD!’

‘Why tell me this, then?’

‘You’re assuming that I’m going to let you leave here alive.’ He says it casually. ‘But by all means, keep asking what you think you have a right to know. Consider this my reward for making a bunch of idiots out of my men – you just deprived them of their end-of-year bonuses by pulling this stunt.’

You can feel the trigger fingers itching from here.

>‘These two are dying.’
>‘You’re not Haszadian. That accent…’
>‘The whole Senate is maneuvering against The League of Nations!’
>Write-In

>>836325
>>‘You’re not Haszadian. That accent…’

>>836325
>>‘You’re not Haszadian. That accent…’

>>836325
>‘You’re not Haszadian. That accent…’

>>836325
>>‘These two are dying.’

Is it time for rules of nature yet?

>>836400
soon

>>836400
No, they'll shoot us

>>836325
>‘You’re not Haszadian. That accent…’

>>836400
Soon.

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‘For someone who claims to be so proudly of Haszad, you sure don’t sound like it.’

‘Watch it, sonny.’ He takes a warning tone. You heed it.

He approaches you, jabbing you in the chest painfully – his size indeed made sense of his strength.

‘I don’t know how they do it where you come from, but over here, blood means everything… and even if I’m not of this land by birth, I sure am it by my spirit and my bones!’

You snorts.

‘But yeah, you’re right, I wasn’t born here.’ He reaches inside his suit, pulling something out. ‘I’m Mondonar-born.’

‘Mondonar? That’s the Enterprising Republic.’ Loudmouth sounds. You turn to her and the both of you share a look.

‘You know your geography, girl.’

He gives her a nod of acknowledgment.

‘You see, my Dad died when I was young… and my mother and grandmother got fed up of Mondonar’s so-called ideals. It’s a damn nation of backstabbers and greedy businessmen, right to its core – they didn’t care for their people, they didn’t give a shit about anything but their big businesses and keeping their economic wheels turning – even at the expense of the livelihood of the men and women who helped get them there in the first place.’ He presents the item in his hand. ‘All they called about… was the value of this damn coin!’

He shows you a coin with the symbol of an eagle clutching a trident and a blade engraved into it.

‘This, kid? This is a limited-issue silver coin from the Capital Mint of Mondonar. One of these coins is enough to buy a whole block of houses back there… houses that the ones whose backs were broken to mold the damn mortar wouldn’t even have the opportunity to sniff!’ He roars. ‘Pure greed! Pure materialism with no care for your neighbor or improving yourself. We moved to Akalay when I was old enough to enter school. That must have been… what? 40 years ago?’

‘You traded a money eats man world for another one.’ You sneer. ‘Politicians and back-door deals; doesn’t sound like much of a trade.’

‘Truth!’ He agrees with you, finger right in your face. ‘But the values at its core – for unity and strength against a collective horde; to be there for your comrade when he falls and LIFT HIM UP AGAIN, STRONGER THAN EVER!’ ‘WHERE YOUR WORTH IS MORE THAN A FUCKING COIN! WHERE YOUR BELIEFS AND YOUR CONVICTION SHOW YOU WHERE YOUR STANDING ON THE LADDER IS!’

He throws the coin above your heads, hitting something with a light clink.

‘That is the ideal that I’m fighting for! Haszad may look like it’s middling, but it’s a sleeping giant – and if no one else will… I WILL WAKE IT UP AGAIN!’

>‘They’re dying, Senator.’
>‘Your Senate is maneuvering against a multi-national alliance!’
>‘That’s just your ego talking.’
>Write-In

>>836517
>‘Your Senate is maneuvering against a multi-national alliance!’
I really want to reason with him and tell him they're dying...but i think we can play for more time. Maybe let the others get here to save us...

>>836517
>>Write-In
>You're chances of fighting the Abyss are dying, Senator. What do you hope to accomplish with two KanMusu?

>>836517
>This
>>836624

>>836517
>>836517
>>"You're chances of fighting the Abyss are dying, Senator. What do you hope to accomplish with two KanMusu?"

>>836624
>>836677
I don't get what this is trying to get across.

>>836734
combining the first prompt and asking what he hopes to accomplish with the sisters and how it would help against the Abyssals

>>836734
Get across that they're dying, and ask what he's really trying to do with the KanMusu and how he's gonna fight the Abyssals

>>836517
'That's just your ego talking. '

This is the most revengeance line, and stalls for a little more time. I'm not sure why people think Armstrong would listen to little things like reasonable arguments.

>>836972
>>‘Just knife me and end it.’

"I guess I needed a good clean shave. Oh, and keep the sideburns."

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‘Your war assets are going to expire within the hour if you don’t let me make contact with them.’ You growl through gritted teeth. You’d wasted enough time talking here. ‘They’re dying, Senator – if you want to at least keep this train of yours on its tracks, having a pair of dead KanMusu instead of ones alive enough for you to do whatever sick experiment you have on your side of table is going to look a lot better than a pair of dead ones.’ You try to square up to him, ultimately coming short. ‘So if you’re going to shoot me dead, at least let me make my last breath worth a damn dime.’

He laughs, slapping his knee. Two of the six follow suit.

‘I don’t think you understand, soldier – I hold all the cards now.’ He proudly pats his chest. ‘You see, if you’d dug yourself into a better trench, you could have imagined – I am going to parade that fat corpse of yours all over the media.’ You find your mouth dry. ‘They’re going to have a field day with you, kid. Taiyouga Secret Ops Reveals Misuse Of Fairy Magic In Name Of National Interest sound like a good headline?’ He makes a grand gesture with his hands. ‘We were so close to reaching a mutual compromise, too – at this point I don’t care if they turn into wood. Your little rescue effort’s given us more than enough weight to bend your so-called Coalition of Cooperation into a collection of Haszadian interests!’

He sneers at you, a crazed look in his eyes.

‘The Shamans and Fairies will wholly abandon you now – they’ll see that the whole war was a delaying tactic, a sham from your side. They will side with us… and your Admiralty will be nothing more than a bitter footnote in the annals of history.’

‘Your plan has no damn endgame to it!’ You argue, your rage beginning to take over. ‘You do this and you weaken the whole collective effort against the Abyssal threat!’ You yell. ‘Everything that we’ve built is going to come crashing down in the name of your national interest!’ You gesticulate. ‘How do you expect to come back from that sort of brink by tearing everything down?!’

‘By our own hand!’ He declares with pride – with conviction. ‘Not by yours or any other nation’s methods! You had your chance and you threw it away – you kept us out of the loop by labeling us selfish and humiliating us on the national stage, knowing full well what we could have brought – the victory we could have won.’ He grabs you by your vest, shoving you into Loudmouth’s arms. ‘You’re the dissidents here, not us!’

He straightens his tie and holds out his hands to his men… who hand him a knife and a machine gun.

‘Now I have a question. Do you want a slit throat… or a bullet to the head?’

>‘Just knife me and end it.’
>‘Between the eyes if you got the nuts for it.’
>‘Go fuck yourself.’
>Write-In

>>836996

Redoing; >>836990

>>836996
>>‘Between the eyes if you got the nuts for it.’
Hope we can do the same trick we did on the gang boss

>>836996
>>‘Just knife me and end it.’
time to just supercharge the Bruce Lee

>>836996
>‘Just knife me and end it.’

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZYAPgPH9hsI

>>836996
>>Write-In, "Poi~"

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‘Just knife me and end it.’ You steady yourself for the end. Even if you could manage to tap into that wind from before again… you’re not sure that you could take them all out – the bunch of them were too close to each other; and you doubt that you could reach around this man quickly enough to put him in a whole.

This was the end.

‘Good boy.’ He approaches you with the knife – it’s a lot larger than yours was… in fact, you think it could probably cleave you in half if he so much as thought about it. Loudmouth is pulled away from you by one of the men, her eyes as resigned as they were on that beach; there was truly nothing that you could do now. ‘It was a good effort… but there’s no prize for trying!’

The sound of a gunshot reaches your ears.

Then another.

And another.

You could have sworn that you had chosen the knife.

Two bodies drop to the floor, dead… and not you. Four of the soldiers train their weapons on you – no, not on you, The Senator, who snarls and raises his hands, stepping away from you. Confusion strikes you like a whirlwind as you try to make sense of what was going on. Why had they shot two of their own in cold blood? A mutiny? The Senator looks beside himself with fury, dropping the knife with a loud clang. He hisses something inaudible – you don’t dare move; the way things were, they just might off you themselves.

One of the men removes his tactical mask, revealing a friendly – well, acquainted, anyway – face: Zamboni.

‘Ishmael, Ahab, get the assets out of containment.’

You recognize that voice. Even under that uniform, you could tell who it was. You turn to your right to see the man who had Loudmouth by his side, who flashes you a thumbs-up, and the eager steps of the man to his left, who took off his own tactical mask, revealing a furious, focused – and youthful – face: Jackrabbit. His gun sights don’t leave The Senator’s.

‘Roughneck?’ Your voice betrays relief, but no one in there cares.

‘Get the assets out of containment. Now!’ You don’t argue, stepping away from The Senator and making your way to the pods.

The Senator, however, didn’t agree with that notion.

With reflexes that you didn’t know he had, he grabs Jackrabbit with his massive hands – and with tremendous strength, throws him into one of the power blocks. Mercifully, he doesn’t connect with one of the cables, but does find himself slammed with tremendous force against the steel barrier built around it. Zamboni and Roughneck unload onto him swiftly – you have to duck yourselves out of the way to prevent getting caught by a stray bullet along with the console. The Senator seemingly falls onto the control panel, back-first, awkwardly leaning into it.

You get from your position to your knees, hearing the sound of rolling bullet shells…

And the breathing of a man you had a second ago thought dead.

‘You maggots are a pain in the neck.’

TBC